


Monster

by YogurtTime



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [2]
Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drabble, Implied Violence, M/M, Romance, Werewolf Lore, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2019-02-28 06:52:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13266045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YogurtTime/pseuds/YogurtTime
Summary: Now, ten years since Ueda's Coming of Age, The Change was a thing KAT-TUN had managed around their career far longer than they’d dealt with the afterburn of losing anyone; one of so many secrets; it ranked pretty low on their list of things to worry about.





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

> A tumblr prompt response.

Always it came three days before it was really time. It used to be the reason Ueda panicked on camera; why he couldn’t force a smile; he could taste the breath of his howls slipping past his lips when he bared his teeth.  
  
Now, ten years since his Coming of Age, The Change was a thing KAT-TUN had managed around their career far longer than they’d dealt with the afterburn of losing anyone; one of so many secrets; it ranked pretty low on their list of things to worry about.  
  
Ueda was routine to them. Nakamaru had made it routine.  
  
Initially it was difficult to tell them what it was like; descriptives were rare when all you had was meat in your mind, centuries of blood burning under your skin and a rage that could only be tempered in control, having and gorgeous wreckage in bones.  
  
Nakamaru was no convert to dramatics and when Ueda was seething, claws out and ready to leave sharp scrapes across Kame’s chest, he shoved Ueda against the wall, whispered into his hair. “It’s OK. This will pass; be here with me until it’s time and it won’t hurt anymore….”  
  
Ueda liked the pain. It reminded him of the foul things he could do if Nakamaru ever let him go. Sometimes Nakamaru kissed the scars on his knuckles where his skin burst to life with bristles of wolven fur and he wondered if Nakamaru didn’t like it too, a little.  
  
Nakamaru was methodical and over the years, he’d made a system of it. The days closer to the moon, he’d check Ueda’s vitals, press a cold stethoscope to his naked chest, padding hot fingers up his throat with practiced care.  
  
“I wonder what you guys would’ve done if you couldn’t control me,” he’d say aloud, so the others would hear. “Put me down? Could you do that? Really?”  
  
Taguchi’s irreverent grin like Ueda said funny things. Loved him. He did. Over ten years with someone and you have to in some way.  
  
“That wouldn’t be up to us,” Kame told him frankly and Ueda’s head swivelled his way, startled by his unguarded tone. Kame was watching Nakamaru, currently sliding the velcro cuff to check Ueda’s blood pressure.  
  
“What do you say, Nakamaru,” Ueda mumbled mildly; testing his joke; he liked the stern curl at left the corner of Nakamaru’s lips, how it deepened when he shot a short glance his way. “How would you do it? My ancestors died in fire; would it--”  
  
Nakamaru never sounded so brusque or heated; his stare was its usual understated warmth but he’s hard delicate fingers curled on Ueda’s wrist, pinned him in breathless seconds. “Don’t ever think I would fail you like that.” he said; there was a knife in the way he said the word ‘fail’.  
  
This time when The Change came. Nakamaru had his manacles already tight but Ueda wanted to hold him tight, prove to himself that the man so calm, so shy, so stolid was worth every lucid thought when his teeth were long.  
  
In red visions, Nakamaru came to him in wolf dreams. Still an idol to hundreds if not thousands of starstruck fans, with the cloy of his sweet voice and the murmurings of love to strangers.  
  
That night though— accepting the scars that loving a creature like Ueda would take— Nakamaru was his graven image. Not there to heal him of an affliction so ancient, they’d never understand but there to remind him he could still dream about mille feuille crepes and purple flowers hundreds of miles away while he sunk his teeth into steel and hoped Nakamaru would still love this monster in the morning.


End file.
